Chapter Text
The sky was blue, the grass was green, and Vidor Császár was going to beat Michael Kaiser.
Vidor and Kaiser struggled against each other for the ball, each vying to take the winning shot into the opponent’s goal. The air buzzed with the competing shouts of the two teams.
This wasn’t the first practice match between EL Káröröm, the Hungarian soccer team, and Bastard München, Germany’s lauded team. After all, the two teams’ coaches were long-time friends. But, it certainly would be the practice match that Vidor would beat Kaiser in.
“You can’t win,” Kaiser rasped, his blue eyes glittering with malice. He grinned deviously and slammed the ball with his foot, propelling it straight towards the goal.
Vidor shot forward, dodging other burgundy-clad players, who moved so close to him that the fabric of their jerseys brushed. An elbow jabbed into his ribs, and he stumbled but managed to regain his footing.
Kaiser quickly caught up to him, Ness at his side.
“You can beat him!” the purple-haired boy cried.
“I already know that!” Kaiser hissed, his teeth bared in a grin.
Vidor soon reached the ball. He swung his leg, swiveling his whole body around, and his foot smacked the ball, sending it curving upwards.
Then, with a running start, he took off, flying past Kaiser and Ness. He fell gracefully into a cartwheel, flipped head over heels, and slammed the ball with his feet, his body hanging horizontally in the air and his messy brunette hair blowing every which way.
He reached out a hand, feeling as if he could grasp the fabric of the sky between his fingers.
“There it is!” cried Ness, beaming. “I knew he would do that!”
Kaiser gave him a look.
Ness blushed. “I—I mean—” He assumed his best angry face. “I knew he would do that!”
Kaiser ran up to Vidor, shoving his face so close to the Hungarian player’s that their noses almost touched. Blue eyes met hazel eyes with a torrent of sparks.
“Such a showoff,” Kaiser murmured, his breath hot against Vidor’s face.
Vidor grinned. “The self-proclaimed ‘emperor chosen by God’ calling me a showoff? The sky must be falling!”
“You’ll never make that goal!” Kaiser proclaimed.
“Watch me.”
The ball curved through the air, charting a steady course towards the German team’s goal. The Hungarian players and the German players sprinted after the ball, which shone like a pearl against the blue sky.
Vidor and Kaiser bolted after the ball, neck and neck, Ness following behind.
Soon, all Vidor could hear were his sharp breaths. All he could see was the ball in front of him. All he could feel was the grass beneath his feet.
The ball was so close, hanging in the air before him like the moon.
Vidor jumped—
And collided with a burgundy-clad player who darted in front of him.
With a grunt, Vidor bounced off the German player’s toned body and hit the turf, landing hard on his left leg as the wind rushed from his lungs.
A twist. A crack. A tear.
Pain exploded up Vidor’s leg, blazing through his entire body like a wildfire. He tilted his head back as a raw scream tore from his throat.
Through darkening vision, he saw the blue sky, now shadowed by gray storm clouds.
Please, God, he silently pleaded, seeing a familiar man with blond and blue hair step into his fading line of sight, an unreadable expression on his face.
The first drops of rain began to fall.
Don’t let this be the end.
“You will never be able to play soccer again.”
1 year later…
“There it is!” yelled the announcer as deafening cheers rose to the sky. “Michael Kaiser carries the day with another goal! Speed, strength, smarts— Is there anything this young man doesn’t have!?”
An adolescent with messy brunette hair watched from the stands, clenching the handle of the forearm cane on his right side so tightly that his knuckles turned pearl-white.
“Kaiser…” he rasped, his hazel eyes burning. A family next to him glanced at him with concern before edging away from him.
“You really were chosen by God.”